Music: A physical release

Isaac and I AFTER the Jazz performance (notice our relaxed smiles.)

  I've started noticing a pattern lately.  At the end of the week, by Friday afternoon, I am just frizzle-fried.  I've spent the entire week being a brave citizen--handling my work priorities, family priorities, and self priorities, and (meanwhile) accumulating stress and anxiety.  By Friday night, my body has accumulated a large amount of free-floating anxiety; I'm practically vibrating with a week's worth of stress. I need a break.

  Friday night is also the night when many musical performances are scheduled.  Oftentimes, the last thing I want to do is head back out again.  And even though I love my job and my colleagues so much, it can be a true mental challenge to come back on campus for an event.

 So last Friday was exceptionally ordinary for its type.  I was tired and so was my teenage son.  (In these instances, our usual pattern is that I'm sarcastic and he's got attitude.)  Getting to the Jazz Festival proved to be challenging.  We were both wound up tight.

  But Isaac plays the trumpet in his Jazz Band at high school, and I knew that it would be exciting for him to get to see college-age and professional musicians playing.  We called a truce and made it to Ardrey to see the NAU Jazz Ensemble and Combo perform with guest artist, Andy Martin.

  It was a fantastic concert.  The NAU Combo started with one of those avante-garde/free jazz pieces that are really challenging to listen to ("Gloria's Step," Composed by Scott LaFaro; Arranged by Thomas Willhoit.)  They are characterized by their complicated, arrhythmic improvisation and aren't my favorite jazz style.  But they do really get my attention, because they are new and present a musical novelty to me.

  I really liked "Bottom End Shuffle" which featured the "bottom-end" of the band (the big brass instruments.)  "Bottom End" is just about as close as it gets to my jazz ideal.  I really like Big Band Jazz--something that has a really catchy rhythm, nice, creative solos, and a old-timey feel that makes me envision that we're watching a live performance with Cab Calloway (or some other Big Band Leader.)

 Then trombonist Andy Martin took the stage, and his showmanship and talent were really arresting.  Isaac and I were both taken with the bossa-nova ballad "Black Orpheus."  When the microphone started squawking, Martin showed his real talent and jazz improv ability by moving around and finding the space that would work.

  By that time, I was really starting to unwind.   I have a hard time sitting still and actually listening to my body--how it feels and what it needs.  I've noticed that music holds me still long enough for me to check in.  As I hear the music, I slowly begin to hear my body, and each note is corollary release for each cell's worth of anxiety.

  And so however hard it is for me to get to each concert, the reward of being there is absolutely essential to my mental health.    

  It must be the same for Isaac.  After the concert, I let a huge sigh of release on the drive home.  Isaac looked over at me and said "I love you, Mummy." 

  I love you, Music.

Happy Birthday Arizona!

Bruce Aiken, artist and chair of BPAC with Redwing Nez, artist of the Centennial Wall Mural.

Happy Birthday, Arizona!

I've been talking for so long about all the things I love about you, Flagstaff, Arizona, but with all this general hubbub over your statehood, I'm seeing you with fresh eyes!  Let me just list a few more things that I noticed (again) this week...

1.  THE PEAKS
The San Francisco Peaks just look so pretty wearing their storm clouds, then waking up with a cozy white comforter of snow on top of them.  Need I say more?!

2.  PUBLIC ART
If you haven't been by the Flagstaff Visitor's Center since this summer, you're missing out on the Flagstaff Centennial Mural that Redwing Nez finished this year.  (You can watch a great time-lapse video on the process here.)  The mural, commissioned by Flagstaff's Beautification and Public Art Commission (BPAC,) was part of the City's Centennial Celebration last Tuesday.  I got to meet with Redwing before the festivities, and talk about the mural process and his creative inspirations.  Redwing is a great storyteller, and we got to hear a lot anecdotes about his memories of Flagstaff as a youngster.  I came away with a great sense of how important the past is.

3.  CLASSICAL MUSIC
The Flagstaff Symphony Orchestra had a another great performance last Friday, with "Polish Inspirations," featuring the artist-in-residence, (and Flagstaff native) Jeffrey Swann on piano.  It was pretty amazing to watch his chubby, yet nimble fingers skip across the keyboard.  It's amazing the manual dexterity that musician-ship calls for.  By the way, classical music--and the symphony--are a big part of Flagstaff's culture.  FSO has been around for over 50 years, you know!

4.  SURPRISE JEWELS
Craig Yarbrough has been inviting me to Grand Canyon Guitar Society performances for awhile now, but I've never made it before.  I finally decided that I was going to overcome my Saturday night laziness and get to the Coconino Center for the Arts.  Maximo Diego Pujol, Argentinian guitarist, played traditional guitar pieces and those of his own creation.  Regional guitar students played his pieces beforehand, combining percussive knocks and quick progressions to their tapestry of sounds.  They were charmingly impressed that their Maestro was in the audience, making the rest of usrealize his importance. It was wonderful.  What a secret jewel the guitar series is!

I'm not traveling much this year, and I won't get a chance to go to New York to see the Shrine of the Ages and Flagstaff Master Chorale perform at Carnegie Hall.  But just because I'm in Flagstaff, doesn't mean that I can't see and hear beauty.  It may not have the grandiose context of big performance halls, or cultural cities, but Flagstaff has a lot going for it.

I'm trying really hard to see the regular sights from a different perspective. It's easy to have fresh eyes (and ears) when you are in a new place.  But it's more precious when you realize that the beauty has been in front of you all along.  Thanks Flagstaff!

Metropolitan Klezmer: Listening and Visualizing

Photo by Steven Toya.

Photo by Steven Toya.

  I went with a few friends to the Horizons Concert Series "Metropolitan Klezmer" last Wednesday night.  I really didn't know what to expect, but I knew that I liked klezmer music, after a friend introduced it to me last year.  Klezmer is culturally Jewish, and, for me, has an association with Jewish wedding music.  But it's so much more than that.  It really taps into a strange place of both hope and suffering.

  The band included an accordionist, a trumpet player, clarinet/sax player, pianist, bassist, percussionist, a violist (who actually studied at the Curry Summer Music Camp when she was a high school student at Tempe High School) and a vocalist.  I found each instrument fascinating to listen to--but then the wholistic presence of them as a band was fascinating as well.  They played a variety of tunes, described as "vibrant versions of lesser-known gems from wedding dance, trance, folk, swing and tango styles, as well as soundtrack material from vintage Yiddish films."

  My friend Laura and her husband, Mike, thought the musicianship of each individual was very impressive.  Mike was happy to learn that the trumpet player had played with Government Mule, one of his favorite rock and roll bands.  "I had assumed that the first song would sound like the second song would sound like the third song…," said Laura.  "But each song was very different, and the bandleader shared some interesting insight and history, too."

  The talent was extreme, and the music was truly haunting and wonderful.  But here's the strange thing:  it was so moving, that it moved some of us right into another sensory mode!  It made us feel a sense of synesthesia!  "Synesthesia is a neurologically based condition in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway."  During the first set, I had a very real fantasy that I was in some kind of strange film, where certain members of the audience would spontaneously start dancing, turning the performance into a celebration (much like Jewish weddings, I have to admit.)  It was very hard for me to keep still.  I could see exactly who would be dancing, and how.

  My friend admitted to me that the music also evoked visuals for him too--but his tended towards the incongruous Western scenarios.  During the second set, I found myself visualizing Westerns too, with  saloons, open plains, and galloping horses.  Somehow, they translated well to the same sense of hope, suffering and freedom that the music was conveying.

  Laura even had a sense of visual place..."At one time it felt like you were in a European club in the 1930s, then at another point down in Brazil, then so on.  I think my son liked the music, but he is 7 so he also liked watching the reflections of light from the instruments tracking across the ceiling of Ashurst!"

I had no idea that I would start seeing movies in my mind's eye while listening to klezmer.  But that's what my experience was--very sensory-oriented.  I went to Metropolitan Klezmer expecting to hear good tunes, but instead I experienced Synesthesia.  How delightful!

(If you haven't gone to any Horizons Concert Series, you have to try them out.  They are all unique.  Check it out here.)

"Love, in public, looks like justice": Cornel West on Education

Dr. Cornel West visits with an NAU student before his lecture Thursday.

  It's a good feeling to be surrounded by people that you admire.  I'm so proud of my colleagues in the College of Arts and Letters, who have been advocating for a well-rounded education, believing that the arts and sciences are both equally important to creating a self-actualized human.  I admire that, because it raises the tide for all of us.  It encourages our society to be more interesting, more creative.

  I've taken to persuading my son that working hard at school is essential--not only because it will help him get a good job making more money, doing something he loves, but because it will make him an interesting person with many talents and hobbies, able to attract interesting friends and a life-long partner.  It will help him make better, more creative decisions.  It will create a life that is more meaningful and interconnected for him.  He will have a tough time getting bored, because his knowledge will be quicker. 


  In the spirit of wholistic education, the Martin-Springer Institute invited Dr. Cornel West to speak to a packed audience last Thursday night at Ardrey Auditorium on "Education as a Human Right."  Dr. West very quickly explained to the crowd that he viewed "education" in the classical Greek way, "paedeia." Paedeia was a system of instruction in ancient Athens in which students were given a well-rounded cultural education.

  West took the definition of paedeia further and challenged us to examine ourselves and our prejudices.  "The unexamined life is not worth living for a human being," said Socrates.  West wanted us to examine our prejudices and our addictions to money, titles and prestige, leading us to ignore others without power.  "Death of your prejudice is essential for rebirth," West said.  It takes more courage to face your own prejudices and darkness than to fight on a battlefield.

  But the government finds money to fund war, not education.  "Education is an issue of national security!" Brother West shouted out.  If we don't advocate for the youth, those without power, then we are not being just.

  "Love, in public, looks like justice.  Love, in private, looks like tenderness," he continued. We should embark on a quest for unapologetic truth, a quest for love, a quest for sweetness.  "Instead of body stimulation we should look to the soul-stirring."  Instead of the "thin stuff" we should strive to be original, not conformist. "Justice, not vengeance," he encouraged.

  Laughing at oneself, having strength, style, moral fortification, and bearing witness against injustices of those in less powerful positions--this is what the examined life should lead us to.  This is what paedeia should inform.  This is why education is a human right--it leads to universal human rights.

  This is why it's important to do more than learn how to make money--we must also learn how to examine ourselves.

Culture Fashion

Provost Liz Grobsmith sparkles at the Take a Seat table.

Symphony stylistas

  I took my mom to last Friday's Flagstaff Symphony Orchestra event.  It was a special concert that showcased the very best of our local talent; Louise Scott (violin,) Mary DiBartolo (cello,) Rebecca Kemper Scarnati (oboe,) Kent Moore (bassoon,) and David Vining (trombone) all soloed, and Jon Eder was the guest conductor.  The concert was held in honor of the late Joel DiBartolo, jazz musician extraordinaire, and his colleague, Bruce Reiprich, composed a special piece for him.

It was a great concert to show off FSO to my mom, visiting from Colorado.  I welled up with a wee bit of Flagstaff pride--and I told my mom that there is a certain style standard that symphony-goers have to live up to.  This fashion pride for my hometown is a feeling that has been rising within me more and more lately.  When I was at the New Year's Eve Pine Cone Drop this year with my son, I thought I would burst with love for my town.  The "drop" is such a unique celebration, funky and cool.  And then I looked around and saw people who were bundled up and still looked fantastic, with that same kind of unique expression.  (You can be warm, and still look cute!)

   FSO concerts are always a special fashion event that call for breaking out the hats, sparkly jackets, and velvet scarves.  The ladies who hold season tickets seem to have the angle on it.  (See pictures above for Liz Grobsmith and other fashionistas who rock the casbah with their symphony duds.)

  So it brings me to an essential question.  We mountain-town people, who love our UGGS and warm North Face jackets, need to be somewhat respectful of the weather and our environment.  If we can pull off fancy duds that are stylish AND practical, isn't that an artform in and of itself?  Don't we deserve more fashion nods than the girls who wear the 6-inch stillettos?  I mean, aren't we more creative, dare I say...smarter?!

  I'm not sure of the answer, but I love going to the symphony for both the music and the styles.

Me and Mom.

Young Musicians Hit Deep Notes

Mary and Celeste rock Sundara.

  On Friday night, my friend Meghan and I went to Sundara for a little show produced by Bold Moon Music.

  Bold Moon Music is an online mentoring project that matches local singer songwriters with local mentors.  Some great people, Jody Cody and Michael Helsher to name a few, are pretty busy helping musicians (young and old) find their rhythm and get the confidence needed to perform live.

  It was pretty great to see the performers have fun onstage.  They ranged in age, from young teenagers Mary Greenlaw, Celeste K., and Jake to veteran musicans Mike, and visiting musician Heather Pierson.  Everyone played songs that they had written, as well as covers.  It was a perfect mix of accessible music, and stuff that really went deep.

  I came away from the show with the feeling that music is a great family bonding experience, and the desire to incorporate it more into my own family life.  Everyone up there was with their family; Mary and Celeste were sisters, Mike and Jake were father/son, and I just assumed that Heather was up there with her partner, because they had a really sweet connection.

  Someone once gave me the really good parenting advice that I should always stay connected to my son's music and my son's friends, and then everything would be okay.  If music is part of your family experience, it seems like it might just help take you further down the road when you have problems or tense moments. When you can't talk to dad, at least you can connect with music.  Or if you can't find the words, sometimes a song is the perfect way to express yourself. And music can take you to a higher level--it can really create a space for fun and happiness.


  I also like the idea of having younger ones so interested in the musical experience.  Those that were onstage had a load of self-confidence and self-possession.  I'm sure that kind of concentration under pressure really helped when it came to other situations that were stressful. Mary Greenlaw confirmed it when she told me "Performing has changed me a lot.  It's addicting, I love the adrenaline and it's really fun."

  There weren't that many people at the show last Friday, which is too bad, considering how magical Sundara can be as a performance space, and how wonderful the musicians were.  I was incredibly happy to have the intimacy of a small performance, however, and I didn't mind.  It felt like we were in someone's living room, and the connection between the performers and audience was blurred.  The beautiful singer songwriters helped take the edge off a stressful week, and gave me a uplifting running start to the weekend.  I was there with good friends, and people who I felt were friends. 

  It's funny.  After I wrote that, Mike Helsher told me something very similar.  "I think that, especially if one is writing and performing their own songs, there is an opportunity to make what I call a heart connection with the crowd. One of the definitions of love that I like is: "resonance." In that sense music can be an expression of love," he said.


  Bold Moon Music has a few shows a year, featuring both young mentees and experienced performers, so you will always have something to enjoy.  You can find out more about the program, or even donate, at boldmoonmusic.org.

Music for everyone.

My own personal Auction Madness

Me and JT Tannous at the 10x10 Exhibition

The spring semester has officially started!  Cute, fresh, students are running around with their notebooks clutched tight and their pencils sharpened.  They all ask me for directions to their classes.  I just want to pinch their cheeks, and remind them of their enthusiasm in 2-3 months, when they are frantic and stressed with finals.  But hey, that's months away!  Let's ride this tide of energy while we can!!

Last weekend I got to see adults get carried away with same kind of enthusiasm at the Flagstaff Cultural Partners' Member's Preview of the 10x10 Exhibition.  The exhibit contains 100 local artists who created over 150 pieces of a ten-inch by ten-inch piece of artwork to sell or start at auction for only $100.  The proceeds of the sale go to FCP.

The biggest excitement of the evening was that it was an AUCTION.  One of my favorite movie tropes (and indeed, real-life archetypes) is the auction-crazed bidder, who spends money he plainly doesn't have, and comes home to his wife with his hat in his hand and, for instance, a hot-blooded war horse that is supposed to learn how to plow the fields.

We all know of these stories.  Last year, I sat next to a couple at the Flagstaff Symphony Orchestra Gala, and the husband bid $500 on THE WRONG THING.  He realized his mistake as the closing of the auctioneer's chant, got white, sweaty and turned to his wife.  "I think I f*#@-ed up, but it's okay," he tried to reassure both her and himself, a non-golfer who had just bought a golf session at some fancy resort.

So I was perfectly aware of  this mistake, having watched a million movies and even seen it in real life.  I, myself, was particularly mad that night for a piece by Joe Cornett and Ben Shaffer called "The Vision."  There was no auctioneer chanting unintelligibly with the sole intention of creating a buying panic.  But, still, I was a woman on a mission, and lo to the hapless fool who tried to talk about unrelated matters.  I was clearly antisocial in my single-minded goal.  I sacrificed a few conversations for the cause.

However, my tenacity did win my auction, and I am now the happy owner of a vintage piece of technology/art.  "The Vision" is simplistically beautiful.  It's a hand-crafted wooden box with camera aperture that you can peek inside, to see an illuminated slide on the far wall.  I love it, because I think old technology is so romantic (pneumatic tubes, anyone?) and I love the smell of wood.  I also love art that involves the viewer.

You can go see my new piece, and bid on your own favorite art next weekend.  The public opening reception for the 10x10 Exhibition is Saturday, January 21, 2012 from 6 -8 p.m. at the Center.  And if you see me there, I'll be more likely to have a conversation with you!

A piece on display at 10x10 Exhibit.  "In the Tapeats at Oza Butte" ink drawing by Bruce Aiken.